Sold Back To My Mafia Husband Chapter 04
The Handler’s Cold Truth
The Madam dragged me away before Lorenzo’s men reached me.
“Move,” she hissed.
I stumbled after her down a narrow service hall. My wrist ached. My cheek bled. My head spun from the whiskey and smoke.
Dante had seen Lorenzo.
Dante had smiled.
Dante had handed me back to my killer.
The Madam shoved me into a staff bathroom and locked the door.
I grabbed the sink to stay upright.
In the cracked mirror, my face looked worse than before. Bianca’s ring had opened a red line across my cheek. The swelling had already started. My left eye was half shut.
The Madam pulled a pack of cigarettes from her dress and held one out.
I stared at it.
“You don’t smoke?” she asked.
“No.”
“Smart girl.” She lit it for herself instead. Her hand shook once before she hid it.
That scared me more than the men outside.
The Madam was not easy to scare.
“Why help me?” I asked.
She took a drag. “Because I don’t like cleaning up bodies before midnight.”
“Lorenzo recognized me.”
“Yes.”
“You knew who I was.”
Her eyes met mine in the mirror.
For the first time, she did not pretend.
“Yes.”
My knees weakened.
“You knew I was Elena Moretti?”
“I knew enough.”
“Then why bring me to him?”
Her mouth tightened. “Because orders came down.”
“From Lorenzo?”
She gave a dry laugh. “From all sides.”
My stomach twisted.
She reached into the front of her dress and pulled out a slim phone. After a few taps, she turned the screen toward me.
Messages. Names. Payments.
A photo of me from earlier tonight, taken in the hallway before I entered the suite.
Lorenzo: Make sure Don Moretti sees her, but do not let her speak too long.
Bianca: If he recognizes her, I want her gone before morning.
My fingers went numb.
There was another message. A company name. A fake account. Moretti money.
I looked up. “What is that?”
The Madam took the phone back. “Moretti money has been behind The Velvet Underground for eight years.”
No. I shook my head.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“He didn’t know.”
“He owns part of the building and part of the bar. His security company guards the top floors. Maybe he did not read every name, but he could have checked.”
My breath came too fast.
Ten years.
I had been moved through Valli houses, hidden rooms, clubs, and auctions. I had been close enough to Dante’s money to smell his cologne on the men who paid to hurt me.
“He could have found me if he had wanted to,” I whispered.
The Madam looked away.
That was answer enough.
My hands go cold.
“He liked the story,” she said quietly.
“What story?”
“The loyal Don with a missing wife. People trusted him for that. Men followed him. Enemies let their guard down.”
I gripped the sink so hard my fingers cramped.
“And Bianca?”
“A pretty distraction for a lonely man.” The Madam took another drag. “A doll with your face. Enough to keep him warm. Not enough to ruin the legend.”
I wanted to throw up.
All those years, I thought my suffering meant something because he loved me.
But my disappearance had helped him.
My pain had made him powerful.
“He said he was looking for me,” I said.
“Maybe he did. At first.”
“At first?”
The Madam’s eyes softened for half a second. “It came out broken and ugly.”
I laughed.
It sounded awful.
Of all the days he could have ruined me, he chose this one.
The day I thought I could go home, they finally decided I knew too much to live.
A hard knock hit the bathroom door.
The Madam stiffened.
A man outside said, “Madam. Mr. Valli wants the girl.”
She grabbed my arm and pulled me toward a back exit.
“There’s a service stairwell. It leads to the alley. You run east. Do not stop. Do not call anyone. Do not come back.”
“I have nowhere to go.”
“Then run and don’t look back.”
She pushed cash into my hand.
I stared at it. “Why?”
Her face went hard again. “Because I was not always the Madam.”
The knock came again, louder.
She opened a hidden side door and shoved me into cold rain.
The alley smelled of trash, gasoline, and rain on brick.
I took three steps.
A black SUV rolled to a stop at the mouth of the alley.
Two men got out.
One held a knife.
The other smiled.
“Bianca paid extra,” he said, “to make sure you died ugly.”
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